Where Do I Live?
by ihadtoputitsomewhere
Summary: Stiles has been getting worse. The Dementia is slowly kidnapping the boy I used to know.


Everyone could see it happening. Scott, Allison, Isaac, Derek and I all knew what was going on. I think Stiles knew it too…he just didn't want to admit it.

Front temporal Dementia. That's what was happening. His brain was getting weaker and weaker by the minute. Some days were better than others. Some days he came to school and everything seemed…well…as normal as normal goes in this town. Other days he didn't come to school. Other days things got bad for Stiles.

Today was okay. He came to school. He sat with us at lunch, and told us the same stupid jokes he always used to. He laughed with Scott. He and Isaac gave each other a hard time like they always do. He smiled at me when we met each other's gaze. Everything seemed okay. Until school ended.

We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Scott went with Allison, Derek picked Isaac up. Stiles' father won't let him drive anymore, so Stiles takes the bus home with Boyd now.

Boyd wasn't here today.

I got in my car and began the 20-minute drive home. I stopped for coffee on the way, making a 10-minute pit stop. I pulled around the back of my house and into the garage. A sharp breeze swept in when I opened the car door. The temperature had dropped a ton in the last few hours. I rummaged through my purse for my keys, not breaking stride as I strutted towards the door. When I finally did look up, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Curled up on the cold ground against my back door, Stiles sat shaking and whimpering to himself. I ran over to him and dropped to my knees, instinctively putting a hand on his back and rubbing in circles to try and warm him up.

"Stiles?" I said softly. "Did you get lost?"

Stiles looked at me.

His eyes. They were once an eternal light, radiant amber that shone with flecks of gold and green. They were filled with happiness, with excitement, and with curiosity. They held a sense of warmth. They made him look alive. He held them open wide so that he wouldn't miss a thing, so that he would catch any and all of the tiny details that held the key to the survival of the pack.

His eyes. They are dull. They are lifeless. The spark that once lit up an entire room has burnt out. They are filled with sadness, with pain, with fear, and with regret. They no longer feel warm. They are empty. He barely opened them halfway, keeping them cast down so that he cannot see the mess that the monster that lived inside of his mind created and left for him to clean up. He is no longer curious. He is no longer excited. He is no longer the boy he used to be. Now, he is just the shell of a boy who has seen too much, who has been too much, and who has had too much done to him.

The eyes that were once an eternal light have been extinguished. Stiles will never be that boy again.

His bottom lip began to quiver, and those eyes filled up with hot tears. He took an unsteady breath before speaking.

"Where do I live?" He muttered.

"Oh, Stiles—" I scooted close to him and wrapped my arms around his shivering frame. He buried his head in the space in between my shoulder and neck. He cried. Stiles sobbed and hot tears dampened my shoulder and his fingers curled themselves in the fabric of my shirt. He held on like someone was trying to tear him away from me. I held on too, because I didn't want him to float away.

"I'm sorry." He bawled. "I'm sorry. I'm—I didn't know where to go. I remembered…here. I remembered being here. I think I felt…good. Happy. Safe."

"You were. Stiles, you were. And you still are safe. Okay? It's okay to come here. I'm glad you came here. Come on." I stood up and held out both hands for him. He took them, slowly standing up. I slid my arm around his waist and he put his arm over my shoulders. He looked around, uncertain of what to do next.

"It's okay. Come in, I'll make you something to eat. And then I'll take you home. Sound okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He sounded defeated and completely miserable.

I stopped walking and stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to beat yourself up about it. It's not your fault."

He leaned towards me, and I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck. Stiles wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him, deepening the hug. I felt his nose press into the skin of my neck. I wove my fingers into his brown hair and traced circles on the nape of his neck with my thumb.

"It's okay." I whispered.

He pulled away. "No it's not. I shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be so weak and useless and pathetic. I should have been stronger. None of this would have happened if I was stronger. I'm just Stiles. Skinny. Defenseless. Useless."

It killed me to hear those words. Like there were a thousand knives being plunged into my heart at one time. It almost made me sick. Because that was so untrue. It was so far from the truth, I couldn't even put it into words.

"I'm… I'm not even going to begin to list the ways I can prove you're wrong. We could be here all night. So I'm not going to do that, I'm not going to…tell you things about yourself that you already know, and that I already know. Instead, I'm going to kiss you. I'm going to try and show you how wrong you are instead of telling you. Okay?"

Stiles nodded, his eyes wide.

I leaned in. He leaned in. Just before our lips touched, I felt his breath on my skin. Hot and shaky. But then our lips met, and all of that went away.

It was like someone lit a sparkler, and all I could feel was the tingling on my lips. It was short and chaste, but still meant the world to both of us. When we pulled away, it thought I saw some sort of a spark return to his eyes, even if only for a few seconds.

I looked up at him, and his face broke into a huge grin. I legitimately think his mouth touched his ears. That was all I wanted to see, the smile that could light up the entire town of Beacon Hills. I grinned back, pecking him lightly on the cheek.

"Let's go inside okay? I could go for some Mac 'N Cheese and a movie."

"Sounds good. Do you guys have any of the Star Wars movies?"

"Of course. You pick. I'll get cooking." I turned on my heel and started towards the door, Stiles following in suit.

I smiled to myself, knowing that Stiles was okay. Today, Stiles was okay. We would tackle tomorrow when it got here.


End file.
